practice makes perfect
by parisoriginal
Summary: PWP: Faberry in school bathroom. For Aly (lellolamb); happy belated/early birthday, doll!


an (1): I was going to write something to go along with luckypressure's latest faberry piece but I ran into this unfinished gem.

an (2): This was for Aly's (lellolamb) birthday, way back when, but I'm a bad person and never finished it. ..til now! BETTER LATE THAN NEVER!

Short and sweet ;)

* * *

Your fingers trail over her nipples and her warm shuddering breath makes your face tingle. You could listen to her forever. You've had her pinned against the wall for the past five minutes and already you have her panting. There's a surge of adrenaline that flushes through your veins and a smug look plays on your face. You move in closer, just far enough from her ear so that your breath can now tickle her skin.

Her voice breaks the silence, "Quinn," she begins hesitantly.

You roll your eyes, "Shut up, Rachel."

She still resists, "Quinn, may I—" a kiss here, a nip there, "_remind_ you that we are on _school_ grounds."

"Rachel," you growl.

She pushes you away as far as she can with your grip so tight, "Quinn _Fabray_."

Your eyes close slowly and your head bows a little in utter frustration. You let your face falter, trying to be sly, "baby," you whine, starting to place soft kisses up her neck and you hear her exasperated sigh. She knows she's not going to win this battle.

"Yes?" She asks, rolling her eyes this time. Now your lips are leaving trails up her jaw, reaching her ear, "I'm just really," lick, bite, nip, "_really_ horny."

Your hipbones begin to push forward, her body completely against the tile of the last bathroom stall. She sucks in a breath and whispers, "_fuck_."

You nod against her cheek and whisper, "mmm, yes, please," in return. You roll your hips against her once again and her moan reverberates right into your ear. A sharp chill shoots up your spine. There are gasps and sighs between kisses and tongues running over one another, softly, roughly, hungrily. Hands roam, no surface of her skin is safe beneath your fingertips. Your palms inch up her skirt, squeezing her ass. She groans onto your mouth. Your movements begin to get frantic. You want to be inside her; you want to hear her scream; you want to make her shake.

All of a sudden the bathroom door swings open and the sound of a pair of footsteps follows. Rachel's eyes widen in the most cartoonish of ways, but you don't let that stop you. Your hand dips beneath her skirt, letting your hands hover over her inner thighs, and she looks absolutely petrified. The distance between you and her is once again diminished. With an index finger on your lips, you lean toward her, making sure it is the only thing separating you from her mouth. A low hush escapes your lips before swiftly removing your finger and crashing into her. You feel her chest constrict trying to stifle her moan, and you can't say you aren't on the same track. Silence is dire, since the coast is definitely not clear.

Your tongue brushes against hers, languid and smooth. You part from her, but you continue to tease her. She's so distraught by the entire situation, she's basically motionless. You don't like that, so you capture her bottom lip between your teeth and pull back roughly. Her brows knit tightly in pain, unable to formulate any type of sound. Once her lip is released, her eyes open and her pupils have completely taken over. For a second you forget where your hand is as she grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in. Her hips sink onto your hand causing you to indadvertedly brush against her underwear. Your forehead bumps hers when you feel a warm and wet sensation over your fingertips. She's soaked through her panties. Your eyebrows furrow, there's a burning in your stomach. Your mouth opens to whisper some obscenity in reaction, but she makes sure to silence you with her own.

More frantic now, it needs to happen and it needs to happen soon, you think to yourself. The control factor has pretty much flown out the window at this point. Who needs it? Who needs power when there's a fire ripping through you, relentlessly clawing beneath your skin, with absolute thirst for escape? Of course, _you do_. You thrust your hips onto hers and a sound in the bathroom let's you know the mystery girl is a couple of stalls down. Your fingers move her underwear to the side and dip into her slick folds. Instantly, fingernails rake your neck and you make a mental note to scold her about that later. _She knows better_, you think, but screw it. _Better yet, screw her_.

You've got a thumb on her clit—rubbing rough, small circles just to pay her back for the damn red marks she's probably left all over the back of your neck—and two fingers fucking her harder and faster with each pump. She's pulled away from your mouth at this point; her mouth open slightly and her brows knit so tight, you're starting to wonder if they'll remain that way. You hope they don't, because her smile is too beautiful not to see again. Her bottom lip is now caught between her teeth and her head begins to lull back and you know she's close. Very close.

Her arms are wrapped around your neck, pushing down to pull herself up against the wall as she begins to tighten around your fingers. For a moment you really want to kick that other girl's ass in the other stall because you want to be able to hear Rachel scream. _Fuck_, the thought of her moaning and crying out your name is nearly enough to make you come. Just as she's coming you pull in three fingers, pumping them in completely, making the palm of your hand meet her clit. She brings you impossibly closer, her lips against your ear and you push your fingers to her spot and she's comes hard onto your hand.

You feel her entire body stiffen and quake against you and, "_fuck_," just as the toilet flushes. _Oh, for fuck's sake_, you think, no puns intended. A smile erupts on your face and she begins to unwind, her whole foot now touching the ground. Her forehead rests on your chest while she catches her breath and her hands are limp around your neck. She looks a mess, but she fucking glows.

You hear the stall open and the girl walk over to the sink to wash her hands. Your fingers finally exit Rachel and you reach for some toilet paper to wipe them with. She looks up at you and you kiss her forehead and when you pull back, she smiles. The water shuts off and the sound of paper towels being passed from hand to hand reverberates off the walls. The footsteps head to the door and the door is hauled.

And just as you think the coast is clear, "Fabray, _really_? You could do better. And nice try, Berry. Maybe a couple more attempts and you'll finally learn to be quiet."

Santana's steps fade away and you can't help but start a fit of giggles. Rachel looks completely unamused as she swats your arm, hard.

"What?" You try to stop laughing by kissing Rachel's face over and over, "Maybe she has a point, Rach."

She squirms a bit when you reach her sweet spot on her neck, still trying to be angry with you.

"Practice does makes perfect."


End file.
